


Positions

by ClownheadMcFucker



Category: Dune - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Insults, M/M, Nipple Torture, PWP, Piercings, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Threats, the baron is actually bottoming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28031052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClownheadMcFucker/pseuds/ClownheadMcFucker
Summary: Though Piter typically avoided dwelling on what the exact nature of theirrelationshipwas ...thiswas certainly not the typical duty of a mentat, nor the position he typically expected to find himself in.Piter fantasizes about violence and unsuccessfully avoids contemplating the nature of he and the Baron’s relationship at the same time.
Relationships: Vladimir Harkonnen/Piter de Vries
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	Positions

**Author's Note:**

> I’d say that I’m just using the Baron as a vessel for Piter horniness, but honestly, I don’t even have enough shame left to deny that I am also horny for The Big Man. I have such bad taste lol.  
> More importantly: While some of the more violent tags on this refer just to Piter’s thoughts and not anything that these two are actually engaging in, still heed those before reading if descriptions of bodily harm (specifically piercings being torn out) are going to squick you out.  
> anyway Enjoy~

“An _urgent_ summons hm?” Piter asked, somewhat annoyed as he stood in the doorway of the hidden servants’ passage from which he had emerged. He had been notified from within his own chamber that the Baron _urgently_ needed him in his bedchamber. He should have guessed that the stakes weren’t really so dire. 

“I thought the idea of you scrambling here still in your nightclothes might be funny, and I see I was right.” The Baron laughed loudly “do you really not own any slippers my dear Piter?” he asked, chuckling at the sight of Piter’s bare feet beneath his long nightshirt. 

“What is it that you want from me?” 

The answer to the question had become clear enough to Piter when he had first entered the room, having instantly noted the already-open vial of lubricant on the bedside table as well as the slightly shiny smear of it on the bedsheets near to one of the Baron’s hands. 

And yet still, he hoped to hear it from the Baron’s own lips. 

_I want you to fuck me, Piter._

Even if it was what he was being asked to do, Piter calculated that the odds of hearing that exact phrase from the Baron were low. What a delight it would be to hear outside of his own head someday, but he knew he never would. 

The Baron was sitting up slightly in his bed, looking startling plain and pale against the dark bedclothes, nude, and devoid of almost all of his usual accessories, suspensors included. The lack of jewels on his ears and fingers –combined with the heaving of his chest and stomach– drew attention to his pierced nipples and navel. The handsome face attached to the mass of flesh showed its true age and wear even in the low light. It spoke somewhat to their relationship that a man as vain as the Baron Harkonnen allowed Piter to see him in such a state. 

Though Piter typically avoided dwelling on what the exact nature of their _relationship_ was ... _this_ was certainly not the typical duty of a mentat. 

“Come here, Piter.” 

Piter had intended to ask the question again, _what is it that you want from me?_ , but was cut off as the Baron pulled him harshly by the wrist. Placing Piter’s hand directly onto his erect cock, and letting the rest of Piter fall on top of his large body. 

“So that's it, eh?” Piter snickered to himself, ignoring the Baron’s cock and instead, teasing at his entrance, “too lazy to pleasure your own self, no choice but to call me down here and let you use my cock like a toy? Is your ass really so special that one of your little concubines isn’t privileged enough to fuck it over your _mentat_?” 

The Baron laughed but made it clear that his patience for Piter’s teasing –both verbal and otherwise– was thin. 

“That’s right, Piter, you _are_ to be my toy, and you'll do what’s asked of you. You should be so lucky I'm not in the mood to exhaust myself while I play with you tonight– you know I wouldn't make it pleasant for you.” 

Piter _did_ consider himself lucky that he’d yet to find himself crushed between the Baron and his plush mattress. Though an awful part of himself did wonder what the experience might be like – it was bound to happen sooner or later, why dread the inevitable. 

In this moment though, Piter was tasked to perform quite the reverse. While he still found it physically unpleasant, it wasn’t without its own pleasures. 

_I need you to fuck me, Piter, oh please._

Ah, if only… 

The size of Piter’s cock was dwarfed when compared to the thickness of the Baron’s large fingers, smaller even when compared to the Baron’s own swollen cock, and Piter was surprised that this fact was not remarked upon by the Baron. Alas, he was in no state to dole out his usual insults. As Piter pushed into him, the Baron’s face had the peacefully vacant expression of one finally able to scratch an itch that they could not reach. 

A soft sigh escaped him. 

As far as Piter knew, none of the Baron’s slaves engaged in anything like this with him. What the Baron indulged in with his young concubines was that purely of cruelty; a game of power in which the Baron was always the winner, a completely destructive, dominant figure. 

While Piter was still at the Baron’s mercy, subject to his torturous whims, it was ... _different_. They were not equals, no, but the gap between them was smaller, if ever so slightly. 

Piter was the only one in the entire household who currently occupied this position, this place on the sliding scale which brought him ever so slightly closer to equal. But surely, in the Baron’s long life, he couldn’t be the only one ever? How many other men had found themselves in this position? Were any there by choice? Any to satisfy a need for _intimacy_ , and not one for power or hunger? 

They weren't questions Piter needed answered. And he did not want to ask himself what need his position satisfied in this moment. 

_A useless train of thought, useless,_ Piter thought, shaking the thread from his mind and instead choosing to focus on the fine jewelry upon the Baron’s chest. 

Piter slipped a finger into one of the rings adorning the Baron’s nipples, rolling the jewelry back and forth, pinching the bud around it. He wondered at what age the man had gotten them done, imaging a much younger version of the Baron writhing in pain beneath the jeweler’s needle. 

Ah, now _that_ was a train of thought worth pursuing. 

How much of Piter’s strength would it take to tear the little gold hoop clean out of the Baron's body? Couldn’t be much. 

He imagined he’d rip one out with a single motion, a quick yank, and the other slowly, steadily pulling his hand further and further until the flesh was eventually forced to give way. 

What kind of sounds would the Baron make in his agony? Sadly, Piter would never know, but he could play out different versions in his head, a symphony of cries and pleads just for him. 

Deciding to give in to just a bit of temptation, Piter pulled the ring just hard enough to make the Baron flinch, immediately gripping Piter’s jaw to wrench his face down to eye level. He growled a warning for Piter not to push his luck any further. 

The Baron’s movements were slow and laborious without aid from his suspensors, but his sheer size was still its own form of strength against Piter’s frail self. 

Piter grinned, “You’ll have to allow me some of my own fun if you expect me to stay hard enough to fuck you.” 

“I expect you to stay hard out of fear for your miserable little life,” the Baron said, releasing Piter. 

“Forgive me, Baron,” Piter said. He lapped his tongue tentatively at the Baron’s chest, offering an alternative to his pinching and pulling, which was met with an affirmative hum. 

Piter spent some time clearing his mind of fantasies and contemplations, focusing instead on performing his duties as the submissive little toy he’d been tasked with being for the night. Following the Baron’s direction on how best to please him. From tongue, to cock, to hands, not a single part of Piter’s body was where it was not instructed to be. If necessary, he could play toy for hours until another opportunity for his own pleasure arose. 

He stroked the Baron’s cock in-time with his thrusting until the Baron was breathing out a stream of vague praise and direction “–good, Piter, good, yes, there, there–!” The look of vacancy returning to the Baron’s face as his orgasm steadily came upon him. 

At the last moment, Piter took advantage of the Baron’s distracted state to bite him viciously upon the chest, sinking his teeth into the plentiful flesh around one piercing. If the Baron reacted to the pain, the sound of it was masked by the sounds of his climax. 

He spilled his seed across Piter’s hand. 

“Satisfied?” 

“Yes, now leave me.” 

Piter bowed as he turned back. 

“And Piter!” The Baron called after him, “don’t think my current satisfaction is enough to get you out future punishment for _this_ ,” gesturing to the throbbing bite wound on his chest. 

“I wouldn't dream of it,” Piter said, slipping away into the dark servants’ passage with a smile on his face. 

_Why not look forward to the inevitable._


End file.
